


Another Face in the Crowd

by sparkly_seagull



Series: Jangobi Week (2021) [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Time Travel, blame Dooku, he's got valid concerns about his father figure being sexualized, honorable mention of Anakin having coherent thoughts, its just because Jango straight up stole like five different identies in one go, mentions of codywan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkly_seagull/pseuds/sparkly_seagull
Summary: Day 2: Time TravelJango wakes up in the barracks of The Negotiator and decides the best way to handle the situation is to impersonate one of his many clones. It goes well until it doesn't.
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Jangobi Week (2021) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137158
Comments: 22
Kudos: 358





	Another Face in the Crowd

**Author's Note:**

> Me, rereading this: is my mind a stable place?
> 
> Apologies in advance, I’ve got no conceivable explanation for the time travel itself, so we’re just gonna breeze past it and accept it for what it is. Also, this is crack and I cannot physically express that enough.

He jolted to consciousness with a sharp intake of breath, feeling entered his body and his eyes snapped open. He lay flat on a padded surface, the ceiling right above his head, close enough to touch if he wasn’t careful sitting up. He sucked in another breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs before he rolled to the side, glancing over the edge of the bunk to see the rest of the long rectangular room, filled with bunks all made pristine and spaced out evenly.

Jango rolled back, letting his eyes fall away from the sight in front of and beneath him and back under his heavy eyelids. He struggled to remember the last thing that had happened, where was he? Where had he been before? Because where he’d been certainly wasn’t where he was now.

An image ticked at the edge of his mind, an answer that promised to be the one he wanted to hear. Jango reached for it with all of his concentration, fighting to remember. When the memory did come, it hit him like a durasteel wall, causing his already ragged breathing to catch.

_ There was a threat, looming over him in a hooded cloak and with a gigantuos posture. The man had an air to him, a dark and disturbing energy that emanated from every pore he possessed. _

_ “So you’ve made it to the end of my little competition. I really shouldn’t be surprised, your reputation certainly precedes you Mr. Fett.” _

_ Jango’s arm did not shake as he cocked his second blaster, aimed straight for the shadowy man’s heart while the other was aimed for his cloaked head. _

_ “I want my pay.” _

_ He’d taken the job because it seemed like a challenge, a chance to test his skills against force users without the retribution of the  forsaken  Order. He should’ve known that the woman, her blades of unstoppable light and powers of the legends of enemies of old would not be alone. Force wielders never were. This dark and imposing man however, he had invited Jango here to kill the woman, something that screamed at Jango’s senses that there was more to the story that could ever be imagined. _

_ “And you will get it.” The man shifted, the hood of the cloak falling away to reveal a regal and cruel face of an elderly man, his goatee of white streaked with gray. “The bounty will be paid in full, have no fear.” _

_ Jango felt a feeling that wasn’t his own creep up his spine, it whispered at him to trust the man, but the inclination could not pierce through his  and through his mind. He knew that likely the only thing keeping him from this tall and arrogantly proud man was the  of his  and the ability of the metal to repel the  ’s powers. _

_ “Get your powers away from me,” He bit out through gritted teeth, beginning to feel the oppressive atmosphere lay heavily upon him. Jango was beginning to suspect this  was no  at all. He was too dark, his powers too demanding. “  .” _

_ The man’s smile was treacherous and smug. “My name is Tyranus and we have a deal to make.” _

_ Jango wasn’t so sure of that. He had no wish to make deals with  , let alone  . Both of the groups could not be trusted,  had been betrayed and murdered by both. This bounty was not worth the trouble he had found himself in. But there was no time for regrets when the man raised a blood red blade, leveled at Jango’s throat. _

_ Tyranus spoke once more, with an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. “Have a seat, we have much to discuss.” _

The memory ended as abruptly as it had come, leaving Jango with sweat streaking down his face and covering his body in a thin sheen despite the cool temperature of the room. He sat in silence for a few moments, listening closely for any noise. There was nothing but the soft hum of an engine, the click of the air conditioning coming to the end of a cycle, and his own contained breathing.

Jango took stock of his predicament, mentally noting his lack of  and the fact that his face was readily exposed to the surrounding world. He had been stripped to his flight suit, leaving only the three blades strapped to him as his weapons. It was inconvenient, but he had survived with less in much worse situations. Jango decided it was time to move, the silence would only last so long, he knew from experience there would always be someone ducking back into the barracks. At least, that’s where he assumed he was. Unless his captors and or hosts had a room full of bunks for another reason completely.

He didn’t make a single noise as he dropped to the floor, the durasteel was cold under his feet, seeping through his thermal socks. Jango investigated the bunks around him, rifling through the obscured decorations of one bunk, trying to figure out anything about the occupant who had painted their space with streaks of gold paint.

“  ?” A voice behind him asked. Jango whipped around, coming face to face with himself. “What happened to you? Are you okay?”

Jango resisted the urge to gawk at the man who wore his face, it was practically like looking in a mirror. Pushing his shock and surprise to the side for a moment, he let the instincts ingrained from years of bounty hunting lead his actions. “What’s your name?”

“Dusty,” He seemed simultaneously miffed and upset by the question. A dawning of a realization began to settle over his face, and Jango was sure he was finally taking a good look at Jango. Dusty wouldn’t ever come to a conclusion though, Jango took a well aimed swing to the side of his head, knocking his double unconscious. Dusty dropped to the floor gracelessly, making a clattering noise as his plastoid armor bumped against itself and the ground.

Jango knelt, taking Dusty’s pulse, still strong, and began to inspect his armor. It was hardy if not a bit cheap for his taste. The style was obviously meant to emulate that of the  even if the impression was poor. He glanced around for a matching helmet, finding one dropped on the bed next to them, left there by Dusty when he’d gone to question Jango.

The t-visor stared at him, the designs minimal on the  , but in the same gold color as the rest of the armor and the decorations adorning the bunk. He was on a warship, there was no doubt about it now.

  
\---  
  


Jango ducked out of the barracks, now clad in the plastoid armor that fit his body like a glove. Dusty, whom he was now suspecting to be a clone of himself, the only vaguely plausible explanation he could call to mind, was sedated with a spare blow dart he’d found hidden in the hilt of one of his daggers, and subsequently stuffed under a bed. It would be another few hours til the possibility of someone finding his body arose. Jango felt no remorse as he walked down the ship corridors, pretending like he belonged.

There were others, others who wore his face and variations of Dusty’s armor. If these truly were his clones, there were lots of them. How had this happened? Had he willingly be the template for an army? And an army for whom? What h-

“Hey Shiny!” Called one of the clones, startling Jango out of his thoughts. He crossed the hallway from where he’d been standing with a group of others to bump Jango with his shoulder.

Jango nodded, unwilling to proactively engage in any conversation that would blow his cover before he was able to gain any information at all about his surroundings. If he was lucky, the newest clone would be able to give him valuable insight. “Hey,”

“Did you hear the news?” He asked, an excited smirk curling at the edges of his lips.

“I have not.”

“Well, you’re gonna like this,” He leaned in, as if he was going to grace Jango with some truly mind blowing secret.

“Longshot, if you don’t get your  back over here, we are going to be late.”

Only one clone stood where the group had been congregating, the others drifting off quickly.

“Crys, I’m going to need you to give me a kriffing second. The General doesn’t care if we are a few seconds late.” He turned back to Jango. “Speaking of the General-”

“Well Cody does, and I have no need to be on his shit list.” Crys interrupted, crossing his arms in annoyance.

Longshot rolled his eyes, focusing back on Jango as Crys moved to pull him away. “There’s a new … installation. I’d go see it before Skywalker loses his mind.”

“Where?” Jango was baffled. Was Skywalker the General? He doubted it, considering the air of respect and reverence Longshot had bestowed on the word ‘General’. He’d said ‘Skywalker’ as if it symbolized an inconvenience of sorts.

“The docking bay.” Longshot said with a wink. “Just don’t let them know it was me who sent you, okay? Catch you round Dusty.”

And with that he was gone, leaving Jango more confused than ever, but with a destination. That was better … maybe.

  
\---  
  


That hadn’t been what he was expecting. Jango stared up at the suggestive portrait adorning one of the more secluded walls of the docking bay. It was a pinup of who he assumed to be the General. The painting was twice his size, consisting of a handsome man in and white armor and beige robes that were falling off of his body in an alluring way. What really caught his attention aside from the piercing eyes and airbrushed abs was the blue lightsaber positioned in a way that was equally as promiscuous as the rest of the piece.

“I’m not sure what I was expecting,” He muttered. The man depicted was gorgeous, but if he was the General, why did they have the audacity to put it up?

“It’s nice right?” The clone who’d led him there said cheerfully, slapping Jango’s back. “Who knows how long it’ll stay up for. My bet is placed at a full week-cycle.”

“Is he okay with this?” Jango asked tentatively. 

He was met with a scoff. “This has happened before ya know, though it was only taken down because of Skywalker. He can’t stand to see this so-called slander about his Master. That bastard is possessive but causes literally every problem the General has to fix.”

Jango raised an eyebrow. So Skywalker was the General’s  apprentice. And supposedly, he’d be making an appearance relatively soon. “I see,”

“And don’t go telling the Commander either. Cody will rip us all a new one. It’s probably because he’s the one getting closest to the real thing.” The warning ended on a bitter note. Jango could now note a few other things about the people he’d found himself in the midst of. Cody had the reputation of a hard-ass, his clones were serving as soldiers under  generals, and the General of this ship had every single one of his clones crushing on him. How had Jango managed to align himself with the republic, let alone the  Order? Nothing made any sense.

“Thanks for showing me,” Jango said quietly, he had no wish to prolong his lingering in front of what was probably considered insubordination. “I’ll be sure to tell no one.”

“Any time Dusty, anytime.”

That was certainly the end of that, for Jango at least, and he headed back toward the main corridors of the ship, intent of finding information that wasn’t lewd or enticing. He had other concerns that the beautiful redhead that all the copies of himself had taken a strong liking to. While avoiding thoughts of the mysterious General, Jango found himself entering a security station. Inside sat two of his clones, they paid him no mind as he entered and took a seat in front of the large screens playing security camera footage.

“Glad you’re here.” One of the men grunted out. He sounded exhausted and if it wasn’t evident in his tone, it was clear in the yawn he tried to stifle immediately afterwards. “We’ve been requesting another set of eyes for- wait, how long as it been?”

“Fifteen hours ago.” The other clone filled in, his eyes never straying from the screen in front of him.

“-yeah, that sounds about right. So hey, you’re here now,” His imploring gaze dared Jango to object. “I’m going to go now, sleep for the rest of my life, and I’ll see you here tomorrow. Sound alright?”

Jango nodded. “See you.” This didn’t seem professional at all. He what, looked the same as the rest of them and boom, suddenly the security protocol was through in the trash compactor? Maybe it was the long hours, or maybe it was the mind numbing task at hand, but the two exact copies of him were slacking off. They were tarnishing Jango’s good name.

The comm crackled, and the other clone, without breaking his intense eye contact with the screen before him, leaned forward and pressed a button. “This is CT-273-6657 at Security Point 3, who is this?”

“This is Commander Cody.” The comm crackled. “Be on the lookout for any suspicious activity. Dusty was just found shoved under a bunk with a bruise on his head. He was stripped of his armor. If you see, report it immediately, we have an intruder.” The crackling died, cut short by the end of the transmission.

"Can you believe that? What a-" The trooper, CT-273-something something, looked up suddenly, his eyes red from staring at the screens. A smile that tugged at his lips suddenly fell away. “ ... Dusty?”

“No.” Jango said simply, lunging forward and putting the unsuspecting clone in a tight headlock. He struggled, but soon felt limp with the few cries he’d been able to make squeezed out of him. Jango lowered his pliable body onto the chair and wheeled it back into the corner of the room, turning him to face the wall. If he woke up soon, Jango would be able to hear it.

He moved back to take the vacant seat looking over the main cameras, watching as orderly pairs patrolled around looking for Dusty’s armor, and more specifically him. This wasn’t good. Jango looked around frantically, seeing the button to lock the only door to the room and enforce it. He heaved a sigh of relief as the extra blast door fell into place. He’d bought himself more time, but not much.

It wasn’t much later that Jango found himself in the vents, crawling away from the security room, having left behind his temporary co-worker newly decked out in Dusty’s missing armor. He’d abandon the other armor soon, the trick would only last so long.

The trick was indeed a short one, for as soon as he had slipped out of the vent into a secluded hallway, he found himself face to face with the General. His first thought was how accurate the pinup was, before he took stock of the clone emerging from the show, his blaster aimed at Jango.

“Take off your helmet.” The order hinged on being a growl.

“Now now Cody,” The General chided good-naturedly, “We’ve got to be nice to our guest.”

Jango pulled off the helmet, the HUD was terrible anyways, and stared face to face at the  . “They really did capture your essence.” He marveled, surprised by the words coming out of his mouth that voiced thoughts best kept quiet.

“Did they now?” The General laughed quietly, a lilting sound.

Cody shifted slightly. By the looks of it, he probably knew about the pinup. “Where do you want to take him, Sir? A holding cell?” 

The General sighed. “I suppose that is regulation, but let’s switch it up a bit. I am needed on the bridge. And better yet, we’ll have witnesses there. I’m sure Dusty has something to say.”

“I’ll make sure and apologize.” Jango promised with his most charming smile.

The General returned his smile. “Might I inquire who you are? Considering that you’ve already seen my face.”

“And you’ve already seen mine, General-”

“Kenobi.” The  replied at the same time as Cody did.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“What he said,'' Kenobi flashed a grin over his shoulder to Cody, inviting the man closer and gesturing for him to lower his weapon marginally. “My dear commander, there’s no hostilities.”

“If you insist sir.”

“I do,” He locked eyes with Jango once more. “Who are you?”

“Jango Fett.”

Cody froze completely, but Kenobi only seemed mildly phased. “I’ll be sure to make a better impression this time.”

“We’ve met before?” What had Tyranus done to him? Not that he was avidly complaining now, but had sending him far flung into the future really been the best of plans?

“It was an unfortunately violent interaction.” Kenobi said apologetically. “But I have a feeling this time will be different. Now Mr. Fett-”

“You can call me Jango.” He butted in.

“Then you call me Obi-Wan. Shall we go return your borrowed armor and find something else for you to wear?”

Jango nodded, his happy agreeance not tainted by the confusion and mild anger Cody seemed to be feeling.

“Sir, what-”

“I’m a guest.” Jango corrected, a little too pleased that he seemed to be infuriating his literal clone. It wasn’t his fault Obi-Wan was so flir-friendly. He had no blame to take except for getting himself thrown through time and stealing a suit of armor or two. It was no foul play.

**Author's Note:**

> Jango @ the entire 212th: all you’ve got to do is flirt back, don’t be pissy because you’re unoriginal.


End file.
